


More Than Tired

by Onehelluvapilot



Series: Febuwhump [13]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Blood Loss, Blood and Injury, Gen, Hiding Medical Issues, Hurt Lancelot (Merlin), Major Character Injury, Protective Elyan (Merlin)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:46:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29140242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onehelluvapilot/pseuds/Onehelluvapilot
Summary: Lancelot doesn't want his friends to worry about him when he's shot in the leg with a crossbow, but hiding the injury, predictably, doesn't turn out so well
Relationships: Elyan & Lancelot (Merlin)
Series: Febuwhump [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2134998
Comments: 8
Kudos: 22





	More Than Tired

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed by LiGi, all remaining mistakes are mine

Lancelot quickly ripped the crossbow bolt from his leg. The other knights and Merlin were all still engaged fighting the bandits, so they didn’t notice the gasp he made at the sharp pain of it. Quickly wresting himself under control, he threw himself back into the fight. He took on one of the men who was coming up on Percival from behind and within another few minutes the battle was over.

“Everybody alright?” Leon asked, looking around. They all nodded. “Alright. Spread out. We’ll see if there are any more in the area, and then report back to Arthur.” Lancelot was ashamed to admit he didn’t do his part, just walking far enough to get out of sight before leaning up against a tree to rest his leg. It was already starting to throb as the adrenaline wore off. It wasn’t too bad though, and his friends would just worry if he told them. He could handle it. They’d get back to the castle, and he could have Gaius take care of it without anyone else needing to know he’d even been injured in the first place. He headed back when the others shouted that they hadn’t found anything, pulling himself up onto his horse quickly before they could get back and watch the wince that split his features as he did so.

“Are you okay?” Merlin asked as they started to ride home. Evidently he wasn’t hiding his pain as well as he thought.

“I’m fine, just tired,” he replied with a soft laugh to deflect suspicion. Merlin already had so much on his plate to deal with, and he didn’t want to add to that burden. Maybe he wouldn’t tell Gaius about the injury either; the physician would be sure to tell his nephew. The injury probably wasn’t even that bad; he could barely feel it by now. He did his best to smile and keep up the conversation after that, though his excuse about being tired did earn him a little leeway. No one else commented on anything being wrong as they returned quickly to Camelot, not having been far away from the city when they’d encountered the bandits. That probably should have been concerning, that enemies had attacked so close by, but Lancelot couldn’t quite find it in him to worry much about anything other than the fuzziness in his head. He just wanted to get home and go get some rest. That was all he needed, a nap.

“You weren’t joking about being tired,” Merlin laughed as they dismounted the horses and Lancelot had to lean against his mare’s flank for a second before passing the reins off to a stableboy.

“Yeah. Didn’t sleep well last night,” he replied. His words may have been a little slurred, or else his ears weren’t keeping up. Gwaine patted him on the back.

“You go get some rest then, the rest of us can easily handle the report to Arthur,” he said.

“Thanks.” The other knights made their way towards the council chambers while Lancelot limped (once he was out of sight) to his rooms. He closed the door heavily behind him when he finally reached it, and with the next step towards his bed his injured leg went out from under him and he crashed to the ground. There was no way he could stand again, and he could have fallen asleep right there if not for the cold. Painfully, he managed to push himself up onto his hands and left knee and drag himself over to the bed. He left a bloody handprint on the bedspread as he reached up to it, but he managed to grab the blanket and pull it down over himself before passing out.

Reporting the bandit activity to Arthur hadn’t taken too much time, and Elyan was on his way back to his chambers before long. The others had gone directly to the dining hall, but he planned to take off his armor before heading down to dinner. He paused outside Lancelot’s room though after changing clothes. His friend had not looked great by the time he’d gotten back, clearly in need of rest, and maybe he would appreciate having his meal brought up to his rooms. He knocked on the door. There was no answer. Figuring that Lance was probably already asleep, he made to leave when a stain on the wall beside him caught his eye. It was about chest height, and red, with fingerprints smeared in it. Was that… blood? The handprint was matched on the doorknob of Lancelot’s room. Elyan felt his stomach churn.

“Lancelot?” he called, knocking harder. Still no answer. “Hey, if you don’t reply I’m coming in there,” he warned. He tried the knob, his hand coming away sticky with the blood that coated it, and was relieved to find it unlocked. There were no candles lit in the room, but he could still make out the lump beside the bed. “Lance!” he shouted, rushing over. He yanked back the lumpy blanket to reveal his friend curled up tightly on his side. His skin was almost cold to the touch, and if not for his ragged breathing Elyan might have thought that his friend was dead. “Hey! Wake up!” he demanded, shaking him roughly. After a terrifyingly long moment, the knight opened his eyes.

“S-stop,” he whined against the shaking, but didn’t move to make him. He might not have even been able to, given that he was obviously in shock.

“I’ll stop when you stop hiding injuries from us like an idiot,” Elyan scolded harshly as his eyes fell on Lancelot’s right thigh. It was glistening with blood. He had to have been injured during their skirmish, and for some reason had kept quiet. It wasn’t even bandaged at all.

“’m sorry,” Lance mumbled. He keened in pain when Elyan tied one of the shirts from his laundry basket around the wound.

“Don’t be sorry, be better. And stay awake for me for a moment. I’m going to go send for Gaius.” He rushed out into the hallway and flagged down the nearest servant, instructing them to go get the court physician as quickly as they could, and that he should bring whatever he would need to treat a large wound. Within a minute he was back inside with Lancelot. The knight had clearly lost a lot of blood, as he was a few shades paler than usual. Elyan grabbed a pillow off the bed and slipped it under his head along with covering him back up with the blanket. He needed to be kept warm. Thankful that he’d kept his habit from blacksmithing of always having a flint on him, he ran to the fireplace and quickly re-ignited the half-burned logs left in it. He wished he was as big as Percival and able to just pick Lancelot up and carry him over in front of the hearth, but unfortunately though he was strong for his size, he wasn’t able to lift his friend. Instead he tucked the blanket around him and used it to drag him over.

"Mmmm," Lance groaned in pain at the motion. It served him right, really, for collapsing beside his bed instead of in it. Elyan didn't really believe that though as he took up a position kneeling by his friend's head after getting him positioned beside the fire.

"It's okay. Gaius will be here soon," he soothed as he rubbed his shoulder. The knight was barely conscious, though he was trying to follow orders and stay awake. Fortunately, the physician did arrive quickly, carrying his medical bag with him. In deference to his old joints, Elyan quickly grabbed the other pillow from Lancelot’s bed so he could kneel down beside him.

“What happened?”

“I found him collapsed beside the bed. His right leg is wounded, and his skin is clammy to the touch.”

“Symptom of blood loss,” the physician diagnosed immediately. “Get me something to elevate his legs with.” Elyan immediately scrambled to his feet, fetching a small stool from the corner of the room, which Gaius arranged under his patient’s calves. “You did the right thing to try to get him warm.” He passed over a pair of scissors. “Here, cut the leg of his pants open so I can see the wound.” The physician himself was busy removing items from his bag and threading a needle. Elyan helped him clean the small but deep hole in his friend’s thigh, and then stitch it closed, with some difficulty due to its uneven edges. Lancelot whimpered a couple of times throughout the process, but wasn’t strong enough to move or flinch away from their gentle ministrations.

“Is it from a knife?” Elyan asked of the wound. A sword would have delivered a much larger cut instead of a narrow stab.

“No. I think it’s likely from an arrow or crossbow,” Gaius corrected. “The raggedness of the skin around the edges probably comes from the barbs ripping flesh when he tore it out. Some amount of additional injury would be unavoidable, but if he’d had Merlin remove the projectile he likely wouldn’t have bled quite so much.”

“Lancelot, why did you do this to yourself?” Elyan asked sadly. He wasn’t expecting an answer, as the knight had fallen back into unconsciousness, and he didn’t get one. Gaius carefully wrapped bandages around his thigh before pulling the blanket back up over him.

“I would move him to the infirmary, as he’ll need someone to keep an eye on him through the night, but he’s too weak to be moved safely right now.”

“I’ll stay with him,” Elyan promised.

“Good. You can leave him here by the fire for now, just make sure he doesn’t get too warm. And I’ll send Merlin over with some hot broth and cider for when he wakes up. He needs fluids to replace the blood he lost, and hopefully something a little hardier than water will help him keep his strength up. Send for me immediately if he starts to get cold again, or if his heart rate either drops or increases suddenly.” The physician showed the knight how to take his friend’s pulse both below his jaw and in his wrist before leaving.

Elyan took Lancelot’s hand in his own, the only part of him besides his face sticking out from under the blanket, and raised it gently to his lips. His anger about him having hidden the injury from them had gradually been replaced by fear and concern. Maybe when he woke up again, he would go back to yelling at him for being an idiot, but for now, he just prayed to whatever gods that would listen that he would wake up. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments brighten my day!


End file.
